Ready to Smash Records!

On the last day of my sixtieth year, I have a lot to process. Personally, it ranks as the third worst year ever! There are no do-overs in life and I am a glass half-full sorta girl, so as the clock nears midnight, I will leave it here!

Sixty was a runner-up to the two worst years of my life; 1988, the year I became a motherless daughter, was my all-time worst. I had never been exposed to such pain, shock and awe about how ripping one's mother from their life could alter ever ounce of your being. My whole out-look on things changed. In some ways it made me better, but the void will never be filled. It still resonates 33 years later. 

The runner up was 2020 for obvious reasons. Our world changed, and unbelievably, the fall-out is still here two years later. The stress of working in an office when all others were safe at home was excruciating, but leaving the house daily had it's positives. The gyms were closed, so I walked five miles daily. Kept me sane. Called my dad on these walks... 

Then, in the fall of 2020 adult orphan, while quarantined with COVID (the first time) and was unable to gather the friends and family I needed by my side, due to COVID restrictions. I was unable to be by my father's side, as I was for my mother. The changes that resulted in his passing made my sadness even greater, as family dynamics change when a parent dies. My kids tried to help me navigate; but I masked my pain and battled on. Celebrations continued in a reserved way. The elephant in the room was huge. 

New Year, and the optimism was short-lived. As I tried to get my footing, in the post-holiday season of January 2021, and rolled towards my sixtieth birthday- BANG. The two kids at home got COVID and I had to quarantine again. Ironically, when I had it, I tested negative and was able to keep my staff home and work. I only learned I was positive when I tried to donate convalescent plasma in the pre-vaccine world of  November 2020.

So, there would be no parties (I hate birthday parties anyway) no cake (as we were unable to leave the house) and no birthday kiss, for obvious and non obvious reasons. My son's girl friend came to his rescue with flowers and M&M's, to mark the day. A friend sent flowers to my office when I returned, but all in all it sucked!

As 2021 continued, what I thought was post-COVID complications was, in fact, a congenital kidney defect that was never discovered and had to be repaired. Immediately. Countless doctors and tests followed. Happy to say the issue is now stable.

Like a bad country music song, it got worse. The powers that be at my job decided to escalate a merger and while I was home, recovering from my operation, I was laid off. Thankfully, I was taken care of financially, but not emotionally. 

There were some bright spots; the amusement of a new kitten, the casual company of some fleeting friends, the joy of seeing local bands play and the pride of being a #momto3boys. Some of these moments brought temporary relief from the stress and sadness. A dinner here, a cup of coffee there, a meet up to walk the lake, or a cup of frozen yogurt on an early summer evening. A live concert! The breeze of the Hudson River and a good book. 

New Year, new optimism? Um, no. As New Year's 2022 began we saw a new up-tick in COVID.  (I have my suspicion that I had another mild case Christmas week). So instead of going out with friends to see a band, or join one special friend to ring in the year together, I sat in a nondescript bar with two friends, ringing in the year, as I tried to correct a buzz text sent as a status check.  Both the recipient and the intended recipient evidently ghosts in the night. Another one bites the dust!

For those who follow sports, back in the day 61 was a milestone. Sixty was a threshold that many thought would never be surpassed In a sad way, I had the same feelings, when my mother died at 53. Yet, here I am, 60 years and 364 days. About to turn the page on a terrible year.

I'm a glass half-full sorta girl. So, as the snow piles up outside my window and I have a scant few hours left of this crappy year, I am about to step to the plate and hit my 61st home run out of the park. I look to the potential of a clean slate. Health, the eventual new job, and a new life on the horizon.

The short range forecast? The sun will come out tomorrow. Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow, there'll be sun. Just thinking about tomorrow, clears away the cobwebs and the sorrow, till there's none.... Tomorrow, tomorrow! I love you tomorrow! You're always a day away!

 

#momto3boys

#birthday